Finding Elizabeth (20 page)

“The hall will be closed,” Pierre cut in, anxious eyes meeting Jack’s. “What do you mean
delayed?
” Understanding lit his face. He gasped. “Oh
delayed!
You think it’s Eric and he has my Katy locked in there?”

“Who’s Eric?” Dave asked.

“He’s a ballet
patron
of Pierre’s company,” Leandra snapped. Directing a frosty glare at Dave, she added, “And thinks he’s God’s gift.”

“Yeah? Well, some men
are
, honey.” Dave smiled sweetly.

Jack noticed Leandra cringe.

“Jesus, give me strength,” she muttered, but didn’t take her eyes off Dave.

Mixed tension filled the air. Jack shook himself free of Dave and Leandra’s failed banter. “Getting back to your question, Pierre—it may be Eric. He’s done some crazy stuff lately.” He pulled out his mobile phone. “Give me your phone number please, and Kate’s.”

To save time, Pierre keyed them in. “They will be useless to you around here.”

“I know, but at least I’ll have the numbers.”

“Of course. I’ll ring the town hall caretaker at reception and tell him to meet you at the front door.”

“Okay, let’s go.” Jack turned and headed for the lobby.

“Yes, get the car. I’ll come with you!” Pierre stated.

“Me too,” Leandra said. “I’ll ring the police.” She waved her phone about. “Damn! I’ll ring from reception.” She took off and called out over her shoulder. “Do not leave without me.”

Dave went after Leandra.

The dancers muttered about taking the bus back to the hall to save Katherine from this dreadful fiend. They shoved back their chairs, gathered their purses and were ready to kick arse.

“Hold on a minute. Stay put, all of you—please!” Jack insisted. “We can’t all go trooping off to the hall.”

“Jack is right, darlings. Katherine may get in touch with reception. It will be difficult, but it’s better you wait here.”

“Pierre,” Jack said, “would you mind waiting as well? Kate might arrive while we’re gone and I’ve only so much room in my car.”

“I don’t like it one bit, but I see your point. Very well.” Worry lines etched Pierre’s face, and the knuckles on his interlocked fingers were white. “Ring reception the moment you find out what is happening.”

Dancers chatted and laughed as they passed outside her dressing room door. Katherine smiled, knowing they were in a hurry to get on the bus and start partying. Nostalgia caught in her throat; this would be the last time she shared their enthusiasm.

After a quick shower, she slipped into her satin, blue-lilac gown. As it slithered over her body, she stepped into the matching stilettos. After years of training, she could get ready in five minutes flat. Grabbing her coat and bag, she rushed out of her dressing room, closing the door behind her.

She turned and smacked hard into a rigid body.

“Shit!” Katherine swore. Heart thumping, she stepped back.
“Eric!
How did you get in?”

“I walked in.” His tone fractious, questioning, as if he had every right to walk into any place, and why would anyone in their right mind stop him.

A black overcoat hung loose over sharp shoulders. Bleary eyes narrowed in on her. Katherine didn’t falter, and a smirk eased into his angular features. In a flash, his silly grin disappeared.

“Why should anyone stop me,” he said, jabbing a finger at her chest, “unless you told them to?”

Okay, this was heading towards uncomfortable territory. One minute he oozed cunning charm and the next he was menacing and egotistical. Katherine saw no point in reasoning with him to stop this idiotic behaviour, and determined to stay strong and go with the flow.

His shoulders stiffened. Katherine couldn’t read the expression in his bloodshot eyes, but his stance told her that, if she wasn’t careful, she might be here for a while. Soft laughter further down the hallway caught her attention. The last of the dancers were leaving.

“Don’t even think about it,” Eric snarled, looking pathetic.

Katherine didn’t believe he was dangerous, yet she couldn’t bring herself to involve others. Without thinking, she glanced left and saw Bianca and Dean heading for the stairs. Seconds later, they slipped from view. Damn it, she was alone with Eric.

“I have to leave now,” she stated firmly, turning to go. “They’re waiting for me on the bus.”

“You missed the bus, it’s gone without you.” His smirk returned as he caught her arm. “I made sure of that, Katherine,” he slurred, sending a distasteful shiver through her. “Let’s have a Christmas drink.” A bottle of champagne appeared from the folds of his coat. “Surprise!”

“Eric, don’t be ridiculous. We have to go—now. The caretaker is about to lock up and turn the power …” An audible boom filled the hall. “Off.” Instantly, inky darkness surrounded them.

Katherine widened her eyes, hoping it would help her see something. Fingers splayed, she reached out and stumbled into Eric. Katherine recoiled as his arms wrapped around her.

He snarled, “That’s more like it.”

“Let go of me,” she hissed, furious and frustrated that she was stuck here with him in the dark. “Ugh! You’re drunk.” Katherine struggled to get free, but Eric wouldn’t let go. “Get off me!” Her foot glanced off his shin. Her back thumped against a door; it swung open and they stumbled inside the dressing room. She heard Eric slam the door shut behind them.
Crap!

Why hadn’t anyone come looking for her? Good grief, didn’t they notice she was missing?

“Where do you think you’re going?” he staggered sideways. “You’re
my
woman.”

Katherine edged backwards, hands groping behind her, hoping she’d find the closet and the flashlight stuck to the side with a magnet. Her fingers touched the hard plastic handle and curled around it for a good grip. Perhaps she should find his head and hit him with it. On second thoughts, it was better to keep her distance. She just needed to know where he was for her plan to work.

“Eric, how many dates have we been on?”

“What a stupid question.”

Katherine followed the sound of his voice and flicked on the flashlight. He groaned, hands flying up to shade his eyes from the glare.

“Eric! We’ve never been on a date! You’re insane and you need help.” Katherine had the urge to slap him. She did her utmost to stay calm. “And I’m
not
your woman.” Keeping the flashlight on his face, she fumbled behind her back for the powder room door handle.

Eric squinted, bobbing left and right as he tried to find Katherine behind the circle of bright light. “You don’t know your own mind, or what’s good for you for that matter,” he sneered, pacing unsteadily, his shoes clomping on the old timber floor. She could probably time it correctly and slip past him out the door—and then what? Would he stagger after her, chasing her all over the hall in the dark? Hang on—she had the flashlight, and the fool was drunk.

Muscles tense, stomach in knots, Katherine made ready to dash. Eric anticipated her move and blocked the way.
Damn!
He stopped, pulled the foil off the bottle and popped the cork. Froth fizzed out of the neck and oozed down over his hand; ignoring it, he put the bottle to his mouth and gulped. While he was busy drinking, Katherine made a dash for the door, but Eric belched and, arm outstretched across her path, he offered her the bottle.

“No, thank you. But you go right ahead.”
Drink it all
.

Every time he moved in front of her, Katherine caught a whiff of his pungent aftershave mixed with alcohol and sweat. Being trapped in a deserted building with a drunken stalker was not part of tonight’s plan. Shadows closed in around her. Damn, the flashlight was fading.

“I’m freezing Eric, can we please leave?” Katherine tucked Leandra’s fake fur gift around her body. The yellow beam of light danced about the room, before she settled it quickly back on Eric.

Too full of himself, Eric garbled on. “A few months ago you wanted me.
Me!”
he said, jabbing an index finger into his chest. “There’s no one out there like me.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?!” The Eric Grundys of this world thought they were unique, God’s gift, but it was nothing of the sort, they were weak and needy—and possibly dangerous.

He shoved the champagne bottle at her. “Drink.” Eric wasn’t asking nicely.

“I don’t drink champagne,” she told him firmly.

He took a step closer. Katherine stood her ground. Would he resort to violence? If he had that tendency, she’d never seen it. Her friends had only met him a couple of times, and they all thought he was charming, if kind of creepy.

He put the bottle to his mouth and took a few decent gulps, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His movements were erratic, unnerving, especially the way he looked at her right now, squinty eyed and twitching mouth. “You’re such a prissy bitch. You don’t know what you’re missing. And,” he hissed, “you don’t want to miss any more of me.” He grabbed his crotch.

Ugh!
The alcohol was making matters worse. Perhaps if he drank the lot, he’d pass out. “How could anyone resist?” she said, nearly choking on her words.

“That’s right, mother always said I should use my charm.” He began to pace faster, feet stomping. “When she was in a mood, she said I was giving cheek and she’d hit me. But I kept trying to do it right. I was always attentive and charming with you. And what do I get in return—
your
contempt.”

“Attentive? Is that what you call it?” Her hands shook in frustration. The light arced around the small room before she realised and quickly settled it back on his face. “You’re invading my privacy!”

“Nonsense!” Eric looked at her as if she was dense. “Mother says artists are vulnerable, and we must protect them,” he explained as if any fool could see that. “You’re easily taken in by a handsome face, and you’re a sucker for a few flattering words. I know only too well,” he sneered, agitated and unable to stop from moving around the room. “Like the pathetic womaniser who took you to the dance.”

Now he was being insulting. Damn this stupid, stupid man—and his mother. Katherine wanted to punch him in the nose. But getting violent wasn’t going to help this situation; the opposite was more likely. She took a calming breath and told herself to keep a cool façade.

Eric’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowed. Chin down, and shoulders bunched, he took a menacing step towards her. He placed the bottle on the dressing table with a heavy thump, and a fountain of champagne shot from its neck. Katherine flinched, and thought it prudent to back off and stroke his ego until help arrived—hopefully by the bus-load.

“I’ve been thinking, Eric,” her voice soothed, hopefully not so patronising that he would notice. “You’re right; you have a
very
distinctive personality. I think we should drink to that, don’t you?”

His eyes narrowed in on her. “You better not be dicking me around.”

Pumped with adrenalin, Jack, closely followed by Dave, ran through the lobby.

“Wait!” Leandra sang out as she put the phone down. “I’ve asked at the desk for the car to be sent up. The receptionist will keep trying to get hold of the police and tell them to meet us at the town hall.”

“Wow, you’re good,” Jack said.

“Of course,” Leandra replied. “Women multitask. Now if you two get the coats, I’ll go check on the car.” Leandra kicked off her stilettos, grabbed them, hitched her gown to above the knees and, legs flying, ran off towards the valet station.

“She’s really something,” Dave murmured, a look of admiration on his face.

Coats in hand, Jack grabbed Dave by the sleeve and pulled him into the revolving door. Both in the tiny glass enclosed space, they shuffled and pushed. Jack caught sight of Leandra’s bewildered expression and muttered to Dave, “Lea’s shaking her head. Now she’s rolling her eyes.”

Arms out, shoulders up, Dave mouthed, “What?!”

“Why are you out there?” she mouthed at them through a glass side panel. “My coat! Car—valet?” She waved her hand around in an elaborate style game-show hostesses use and pointed out the valet call button.

“Shit!” Jack nodded, and gave her a cheesy grin.

“The valet’s inside,” Dave stated, matter of fact. “Why would he freeze his ass off?”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I would’ve, but I was hauled into the revolving door!”

Jack grabbed him and pulled him back inside.

A side door opened just to the right of Leandra, and a valet appeared.

“Your car is ready ma’am. It’s just now arrived out the front.”

“Thanks,” Leandra said.

The valet handed Leandra the keys. “Ma’am, I see you have studded snow tyres, but be aware the highway patrol issued a warning, there are sections of ice, and snowdrifts.”

Jack handed the valet a fifty-dollar bill. “Thanks, mate.”

“Thank you, sir. Be careful.”

“I’m driving,” Leandra announced and slid behind the wheel.

Eyebrows raised, Jack looked at Dave, who shrugged.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” Leandra yelled, making a point by revving the engine.

Jack slid in next to Leandra and fastened his seat belt. Dave crawled into the back and buckled up. Leandra gunned the engine and fishtailed out of the car park.